Rosalie adamantly exclaimed, “No Franco! I can’t go down there! I’m deathly afraid of approaching that cellar again. I can’t do it.” Franco assured Rosalie that he would protect her from whatever is happening down there, and that confronting her fears is the best way to handle this. He strongly felt that Rosalie needed to greet this situation head on - and with Franco by her side, they could do this together. Rosalie, like a frightened child, hid her face in both hands and began to sob. Franco held her for a moment, as they stood silently, trying to make sense of Rosalie’s account of things. Rosalie suddenly looked up at Franco with a renewed strength and said, “Okay. Maybe you’re right Franco. I need to approach this head on if I am going to overcome this. If I don’t do that, I’ll never be free of it. Whatever or whoever is down that cellar could possibly torment me for the rest of my life if I don’t find out what’s going on. I can’t live like this anymore and you can’t either Franco, but I can’t do it alone. Together, I think I can handle this. Thank you Franco for supporting me on this. I do love you. Thank you for believing me…I feel like a heavy weight has been lifted off of my shoulders now that you know about this.” Franco continued to hold Rosalie, gently stroking her long brown hair until she stopped shaking in his arms. He kissed her forehead and together they began to make their way down to the cellar hand in hand.
Rosalie squeezed Franco’s hand so tight that his fingers became numb. He then put his arm around her waist and guided her down the staircase until they reached the first floor. He felt her hesitation, as she pulled back with every step. They stood on that first floor in front of the mahogany door leading to the newly-renovated apartment, where they set up guest bedrooms for visits from family and friends. Rosalie stood there, as if she was frozen in time. She said to Franco, “I can’t go any farther! Wait! Please! Give me a second! I’m paralyzed with fear! You can’t imagine what I’ve been through, and now you’re asking me to relive this by going down to that cellar. I don’t know if I can do this Franco, even with you by my side.” Franco patiently waited at that spot with Rosalie, allowing her some time to build up the courage to move on with him…Then several minutes later, unable to contain himself any longer, he asked, “Anything so far Rosalie? Do you hear anything at all? Voices? Conversations? Moaning?” Rosalie self-consciously responded, “No Franco. I don’t hear anything. Nothing.” Franco then said with a smile, “Be strong Rosalie. We’re making progress. Come on, a few more steps. You can do this. Let’s open that cellar door and confront your fears. Let’s look around. I promise you’ll be okay. We’ll count all the bottles of wine we bought over the years that we stored on the wine rack. Then maybe we’ll check out the Christmas decorations to see what we’d like to use this year. How does that sound Rosalie?” With reservation, Rosalie complied. She nervously held onto the back of Franco’s belt with three fingers, almost pulling him back as he turned the old glass doorknob and opened the cellar door. He made his way down the old wooden staircase leading to the dusty cellar with Rosalie right behind still holding onto Franco’s belt, fearing the worst. Rosalie jumped out of her skin as the door slammed shut behind them. The hairs on both her arms were standing up, she thought she’d faint. Franco grabbed Rosalie and held her tight, assuring her that it was just the wind from the cellar that caused the door to close. There was an air vent down there which allowed the outside air to come in. Small gusts of wind brushed across their cheeks as they carefully proceeded down the wooden staircase one step at a time, listening to the creaking beneath their feet with each step. Franco aimlessly reached in the darkness for the hanging pull chain in order to turn on the cellar light. When he felt the chain in his hand he quickly pulled on it to Rosalie’s delight, then proudly smiled like a brave knight coming to the aid of his damsel in distress, his dear Rosalie. Together they would search the cellar and listen for something – anything that might support Rosalie’s claims or, hopefully, ease her fears and erase any notion of evil lurking down that cellar. It seemed the side door to the cellar was intact, and all truly remained quiet. Rosalie cringed while walking into some old cobwebs that fell across her face and lips. She squeamishly removed them from her face with a swift wave of her hand, pulling on their relentless fibers. She continued walking past them, still waving her hands in front of her as if clearing light brush from a walk in the woods. Unduly annoyed at Franco she yelled, “I thought you were going to power wash this cellar Franco! This is horrible! These cobwebs are sticking to my face!” For a moment, Rosalie forgot the real reason why she had gone down to the cellar with Franco in the first place. Franco, not wanting to upset Rosalie in her fragile state, very politely reminded Rosalie that they were there to check out her claims of hearing voices in the cellar and that perhaps she should be thankful that the cobwebs are the only things she’s encountered so far. Rosalie fearfully looked up at Franco, then sheepishly nodded and apologized for yelling at him. She explained that it’s her fear pushing her to speak to him in such a harsh tone. Franco kissed her forehead, grabbed her delicate hand, and led her through the cellar.
Together they walked past the wooden wine rack Franco built as Rosalie ran her fingers across each dusty bottle, leaving a stretch of fingermarks on every one. They happily reminisced about each purchase of wine; the where, the what, the when and why of it all, always linking a romantic memory to each bottle. Rosalie suddenly felt a warmth come over her, and the cellar somehow felt friendly, safe, happy, loving and calm. “How could this be?” she thought. “How could this place which has been feeding my fears and tormenting my soul, feel so peaceful now?” Rosalie couldn’t understand the sudden change. She thought that perhaps it was just being here with Franco that made her feel so protected, so loved, so safe and so secure. She didn’t want those feelings to leave her now. So she quietly followed behind Franco, as they continued to look around at the large array of Christmas decorations popping out of opened yet tightly packed boxes. Each box was carefully marked in large black letters, identifying its contents. Rosalie then gazed to the right of the Christmas decorations only to find under plastic wrap the antique, vintage dinnerware sets handed down from her great grandmother to her grandmother to her mother – and now to her. The memories of her mother, her father, her grandparents and the generations before them just brought tears to Rosalie’s eyes. She missed them so dearly…All of a sudden she glanced over at Franco and broke into laughter. There he stood - this tall, handsome hunk of a man, smiling widely in a Santa hat and a string of Christmas lights draped across his shoulders. Rosalie playfully skipped over to Franco and kissed his lips, feeling thankful that God sent him to her. She couldn’t imagine her life without him. He always knew how to make her smile, even when she felt she couldn’t.
Franco then asked Rosalie how she felt about being down the cellar now. Rosalie quickly responded without a second thought that she can’t understand it. She doesn’t feel the fear, the evilness, the fright that she felt all these weeks. He then inquired, “Did you hear any voices or eerie conversations while we were walking through here Rosalie?” Rosalie responded with a simple smirk on her face and said, “No Franco, I didn’t. I’m more confused now than I was before we came down here. I expected the worst – and nothing. All I feel right now is peace, love, joy - I’m happy. Am I going crazy Franco?” Franco teasingly threw some loose tinsel at Rosalie and softly replied, “No, Rosalie. You are not going crazy sweet girl. Is it safe to say that maybe being alone and working at home most of the day possibly caused your imagination to run wild on you? You do write mystery novels Rosalie.” Rosalie, to Franco’s amazement, agreed that yes it was possible; but she was still stuck somewhere between what was real and what was not. Whatever has been happening to Rosalie over the past few weeks all seemed so real to her; but now, going down to the cellar with Franco at her side, has certainly put doubt in her mind. She now thought yes, surely it’s possible her imagination was in overdrive.
She recalled one time being alone at night after writing a really frightenin
g chapter, while Franco was working overtime, how she was unable to shake the haunting chills from her body. Everything seemed to scare her that night. She could hear her neighbors’ voices right in her living room. She jumped at the sound of slamming car doors, cats meowing, and dogs barking. The whistling of the wind made her frantic. She was terrified at the thought that someone could be at her apartment door trying to get in. She remembered how she stared at the doorknob praying it wouldn’t turn. She knew if it was Franco, he’d be using his key. She recalled how she fearfully ran into her bedroom that night and quickly got undressed so she could hide beneath the flannel sheets and quilted bedspread, until Franco got home. She couldn’t sleep a wink that night. As soon as she heard the key in the door, however, she sunk into her soft pillow and fell off to sleep, promising herself that she wouldn’t let Franco know about this. She was so embarrassed by her own behavior. So yes, it’s quite possible that her imagination may be running away on her again…but this time it had a voice, an evil voice!...multiple evil voices just chattering away…calling her name…moaning angrily! “No, no, no,” Rosalie thought to herself. “I can’t keep doing this.” She clearly realized that Franco proved to her today that there was absolutely nothing evil going on down that cellar. She witnessed that for herself. She hated to admit it, but she felt Franco could be right. Her imagination could be the source of her fears. How could she deny this. There was absolutely nothing down that cellar that frightened her today except her own thoughts. Was she going crazy? Were her panic attacks out of control?
Franco tapped Rosalie on the shoulders from behind, causing her to jump off the ground by an inch or two…he quickly apologized for frightening her. Rosalie just dropped to the ground and sat on the cold and dirty concrete floor, burying her face in her hands. Franco sat beside her and grabbed her hands pulling them away from her face. He held them tightly, as she looked up at him. Rosalie cried, “I can’t take much more of this. I’m ready and willing to try to accept the fact that yes – maybe my imagination is getting the best of me, but today was a little too much to bear. I’m trying to be brave here, but I’m jumping at everything, even you tapping me on my shoulders Franco.” Franco laughed and said, “Rosalie. I’m proud of you. You faced your fears today. So now maybe you can move on free of all this crazy stuff about conversations and voices from the cellar. No sweet girl?” Rosalie replied, “All I can do is try. Today is definitely a first step Franco. I’ll try, that’s all I can promise.”
Suddenly out of nowhere, one of the wine bottles came crashing to the ground. The wine splattered all over the floor, across the bottom of the wine rack, and onto some of the Christmas boxes. Rosalie jumped from the floor to her feet in seconds. Franco jumped up as well. They were both on high alert, staring at each other, silently knowing what the other was thinking – (What the hell was that?!) … Franco being the gentleman and the protector that he was, immediately went over to the wine rack to see what and how this happened. He carefully picked up the pieces of glass from the broken wine bottle, placed them in an old cardboard box, then proceeded to wipe up the wine from the floor with some old rags while periodically making eye contact with Rosalie. He knew what she was thinking. Something not of this world, made this happen. He could see it in her eyes. He just couldn’t let her think that. She came a long way today by confronting her fears down this cellar. He had to logically explain this away; but honestly, he himself didn’t know how. He had no logical explanation. Then he thought for a moment…whether it was to ease Rosalie’s fears or to ease his own, he blurted out, “Rosalie! Do you know how this happened? Come over here! Look! Do you see all these fingermarks on these dusty bottles of wine? They’re your fingermarks Rosalie. You were touching the bottles as we walked past the wine rack before. This bottle probably rolled a bit closer to the edge when you touched it, then the vibrations of the traffic pushed it along, right off the rack onto the floor. Bang! Just like that.”
Rosalie just stood there and grimaced. “Okay Franco,” she said. “I’ll accept your explanation for that occurrence. Do you know why I’ll accept your explanation Franco? Because I did in fact touch those wine bottles with my fingers. Maybe that one was a little closer to the edge as you say; but you have to admit those bottles are full and a little on the heavy side to fall from the rack so easily. Yet, you had a logical explanation for that too. Traffic. So enough said, let’s leave it at that. Things happen Franco, so thank you for cleaning up the mess and let’s just go back up to the apartment and leave well enough alone…You know what Franco, please take that framed picture of Jesus in the corner there and hang it on that nail on the wall overlooking this cellar. I want Jesus running things down here if you don’t mind.” Franco kindly looked over at Rosalie with a smile, and silently obeyed, doing as Rosalie asked. “It couldn’t hurt,” he thought to himself. “Who could argue with Jesus.”
Franco was just so thankful that Rosalie somewhat accepted his explanation of things and didn’t revert back to her fear of the cellar. That was a miracle in itself. He wasn’t positive about his reasoning behind the wine bottle crashing to the ground, but it’s the only thing that made sense and he refused to question it or fuel Rosalie’s fears.
Rosalie looked up at the framed picture of Jesus on the cellar wall and soon felt a sense of protection, strength and empowerment. She then focused her eyes on Franco and said without a care in the world, “I’d like for us to do something special tonight Franco. Let’s go Mexican.” Franco loved Mexican food, and he loved Rosalie. So with the vision of he and Rosalie sharing a pitcher of Sangria along with cheesey nachos and large burritos, he smiled. Rosalie looked back and smiled too. They both knew that after a romantic dinner tonight, they’d be making love to each other in the comfort and privacy of their own bedroom, safe and sound, free from the outside world and free from the thoughts of today’s adventure down the cellar. Franco tugged on the hanging pull chain to shut the cellar light as they both made their way up the creaking wooden staircase to the first floor, closing the cellar door behind them.
CHAPTER TWO – MARIA VISITS FOR LUNCH
It was the following day, and Rosalie was beside herself with joy since her very best friend Maria was able to join her for lunch today at the apartment. Rosalie had so much to share with her, including her romantic dinner with Franco last night, but mostly needed to get Maria’s opinion on “the voices in the cellar.” Rosalie truly trusted Franco, but she needed the support of a trusted female friend as well.
Rosalie and Maria were friends since childhood. They made Communion and Confirmation together, they attended grammar school, junior high and high school together - and even discovered “boys” together; promising each other that their first dating experience would be together. So as fate would have it, their first date was a double-date with two young brothers who lived in the neighborhood. As both Rosalie and Maria would laughingly recall, that dating experience was short-lived since they were all chaperoned by Maria’s older brother. Those neighborhood boys weren’t too happy about that and, needless to say, there was never a second date.
Rosalie and Maria grew up into adulthood, sharing their most intimate secrets, swearing early on that they’d stay connected for life; and that’s exactly what they did. Maria is a stunning, dark-haired Italian girl, around five feet four inches, with an olive complexion and a voluptuous shape, who also had a sparkling personality that just accentuated her looks. Both Rosalie and Maria were blessed with outstanding looks, but Rosalie was the more timid one while Maria was a tad more aggressive - all in a good way though - sometimes that is. They complemented each other in a way that worked well for both of them whenever they needed support from each other. What Rosalie lacked, Maria provided; and vice versa. Maria, however, to Rosalie’s chagrin, was playfully seductive and at times looney in her actions and very temperamental. Rosalie found herself having to save Maria from herself at times, whenever Maria allowed her emotions to take over. Maria could be as “cool and calm as a cucumber” on
e minute, then totally outrageous the next. Yet Rosalie always had the magic touch that would stabilize Maria’s floundering personality. Although resembling “the odd couple”, their friendship seemed very much suited for one another. Opposites do attract. They loved each other and accepted each other for who they were as individuals.
When Franco came into the picture, Maria immediately took to him. She was so happy for Rosalie and wholeheartedly approved of their relationship. She sensed Franco’s ability to nurture and she knew that was exactly the type of guy Rosalie needed. As far as Maria’s love life, well that’s non-existent right now. Maria had just come out of a long-term relationship and preferred to be on her own for awhile. Her former boyfriend was too demanding, too jealous, and too controlling. He had to know Maria’s whereabouts every minute. He had a coldness about him that killed any romance they would share. Maria could not survive in that type of a relationship. Yes, she was independent and needed to be in the driver’s seat, but at the same time she also needed to be loved and taken care of by a real gentleman. She wanted to be wined and dined, and simply made the center of someone’s world in the sweetest way possible, but not in this relationship. So she ended it. However, the upside to that decision was that Maria could now focus more on her career as a “buyer” for a major department store and excel in her job without any personal distractions. Of course Maria did manage to innocently flirt with Franco now and then just to let Franco and Rosalie know that she was there. She loved attention of any kind and always felt the need to get it any way she could. Franco, finding Maria amusing, always laughed this off. Rosalie on the other hand, although finding the humor in Maria’s behavior, certainly did not encourage it. Rosalie being more reserved than Maria, did find Maria’s childish, sexual antics inappropriate at times and would ask her to curb them somewhat. Maria, of course, would just laugh it off, thoroughly enjoying Rosalie’s reaction; so Rosalie just accepted them as part of her best friend’s personality and didn’t try to change her. After all, Maria was quite funny, very entertaining, and very unwilling to tame herself. Also to her credit, Maria was extremely strong-willed and destined to succeed in life. She would stop at nothing in order to get whatever she set her sights on. Somewhere deep down inside it seemed Rosalie wished she could be more like Maria and less like herself. Maria seemed to stand out in a crowd while Rosalie blended in with the background. Yet, the important thing was that Franco loved Rosalie just the way she was.
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